Title: Left Behind
Summary: He supposed he was meant to regret everything he'd done. Fleeing the Dark Lord, saving a life. Actually falling for the Mudblood. But at the end of Bellatrix's wand, all Draco could muster was sadness at the fact that he'd only had one week with her. DHr.
Disclaimer: AGAIN, I didn't write the Harry Potter books and I own nothing! I know it's easy getting me and JK Rowling mixed up, but stop asking me if I did! Sheesh...
A/N: Here I go again, attempting another DHr chapter fic. If you've followed me on here, you know I finish nothing longer than one chapter. But? I think I'm really gonna do it this time! I know, I know, you can't trust me, but the idea for this story hit me hard, and I really really really want to see this one done.
So, without further ado, the first chapter of the first multi-chapter fic that I am going to finish. Plz enjoy and review.
"He's still in there."
She said it again, and for the second time she was met with silence. Hermione felt the panic rising inside her stomach, the realization dawning on her more and more with each passing second. There was a nervous pang in her chest- so intense it hurt- and she clawed at Ron's arm with trembling fingers.
"Ron, he's still in there."
He spoke without looking at her, eyes locked on the black fortress. "So what, Hermione."
So what? So what? She could picture it in her mind. All of them circling around him, wands brandished. Not wanting to kill because that would be too easy. "What do you mean so what? Ron?"
Harry finally turned to face her, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses. "Leave it, Hermione. He's gone."
Just like that. For years she'd watched Ron and Harry fight for other peoples' lives, but this time they wouldn't lift a finger. She wanted so desperately not to care, and a week ago she wouldn't have cared. But things were different now. She swallowed hard, searching for her voice. When it finally came, it hardly sounded like hers. "You're joking, right? Harry, please..."
"What do you want me to do?" There was that note of annoyance. She knew it would come eventually.
"Something! Look, we'll drop the spell around the front door, run in, and get him! We can't just leave him! Can you imagine what they'll do?"
"Chances are they're probably already doing it," Ron muttered, folding his arms across his chest. "There's no point running in and getting ourselves killed."
"I don't think you understand," she said. She turned her attention to the black tower, a soft, green light radiating from the walls. They were all trapped in there, stuck until the Aurors showed up. A building full of Death Eaters. They could curse at the doors from the inside as much as they wanted, but they weren't going anywhere. Not with the forcefield Harry had set.
"I don't think you understand," Harry interjected, pulling off his glasses. His palms came up, rubbing hard at his eyes. "Nobody is going back in there, Hermione. Just accept it, okay? He's gone. That's what happens now. People die."
A pain was coming up from the bottom of her stomach, shrinking and expanding in her chest like a clinching fist. It was hard to breathe, and she faintly wondered if she might be sick. "No! How do we know he's dead? Would you guys just do that to me? Leave me in there?"
Something in Harry snapped. "Draco Malfoy is not you, Hermione!" He lurched forward, madness in his eyes. "The three of us stick together no matter what- of course we'd risk our lives to save you! But he's not you!" Then his mouth went thin, his eyes closed, and he balanced the pair of glasses back on the bridge of his nose. "He's gone."
She fell to her knees, eyes glued to the glowing tower.
He's gone.
They came up with the plan on the spot, and it showed. Malfoy had deflected another beam of red light, running with everything he had down the winding staircase. She was just ahead of him, a huge mass of bobbing hair. Lines of different colored light both exiting her wand and flying past her face.
"We're almost there!" She yelled back at him, turning her head just slightly. Their eyes met in the midst of everything, and Draco felt calm. As much as he hated admitting it, Granger was better than him at everything- and that was actually okay in this instance. She might've been an insufferable snob, but she knew how to fight. He followed behind her closely, almost certain he'd be safe. Because if they got a hold of him...after what he'd done...
He didn't want to imagine it.
They reached the bottom of the staircase, and it was almost a straight shot. The bottom floor was huge, but the marble pathway drew a line from the bottom step to the door. Maybe seventy feet away. Hermione didn't hesitate, bolting down it without even a pause. Ahead of them, Potter and Weasley were just reaching the door. Idiots, he thought, real fear bubbling in his stomach. The plan was to lure the Death Eaters into the building, escape, and trap them in there the moment the four of them swung the door shut behind them. Didn't Potter know he was the one they really wanted? If Potter left the tower first, they'd follow, and the whole plan would be blown to shit. As long as Potter stayed in the building, the Death Eaters wouldn't leave- yet he was almost to the door, while he and Granger still had a long stretch of space and a handful of Death Eaters between them and the exit.
It actually entered his mind then that he might not make it...that both he and Granger might not make it to the door by the time Potter closed it and set the forcefield. But that was ridiculous...they'd never seal Granger in a building full of people that wanted her dead. Draco knew that if it meant saving Granger, Potter and Weasley would abandon the plan easily. As would he. He could admit that now without feeling ashamed.
The question was, would they do the same for him?
Draco and Hermione were halfway down the hall, their run uninterrupted, when suddenly they appeared. Two hooded figures running towards Granger on both sides. She'd spotted the one on her left and brandished her wand, but by all appearances she hadn't noticed the one on the right. Malfoy thought Stupefy!, and a stream of red light hit the hooded figure in the face. It crumpled over, along with the Death Eater Granger had swiftly dealt with, and their path was clear once more.
The door swung open ahead of them. Sunlight entered the tower, and the silhouettes of Potter and Weasley blocked the light for a moment before growing faint in the distance. They were out. "Come on!" She screamed again, head whipping back to check on him. He grinned at her, just feet behind, and he thought: We're going to make it.
Her head turned back towards the door, her pleased face replaced again by a mass of hair, and Draco felt something hit him in the side. Slowly, as though it were possible to prevent it, he felt his body going sideways. His feet leaving the ground millimeter by millimeter. Then all of a sudden he was flying through the air, completely out of control.
He slammed into a column, headfirst, and stars rocketed past his eyes. There was nothing for a few seconds, just white pain, until reality started coming back to him. He was slumped at the bottom of the stone column, blood pooling in his ear, and something was blocking the light again. Granger's silhouette.
"No," he said to himself, panic slamming into his guts like a steel bat. "No..."
Draco leapt to his feet, wobbled a bit, and took a step towards the door. But it was closing. Granger was running into the open pasture, sunlight erasing the shape of her, and the door was closing.
"No!"
A bolt of white light zoomed past his nose. The Death Eater who'd sent him flying- Yaxley he could see now- was running towards him, wand held above his head. Screaming like a banshee. Draco hit him with a leg-locker curse, and he came down like a ton of bricks.
"No," he whispered again. With eyes practically popping out of his skull, he turned his head back towards the staircase. They were coming for him now, a chorus of echoing voices and stomping feet. A stampede. And here he was, alone, trapped in this tower with them because Potter had closed the door and set the forcefield.
No one was getting out now, and that included him.
He saw the first foot hit the bottom step, and at the sight of it he ran towards the left side of the house, not sure where he was going but knowing that he had to hide. Because if they found him-
Another wave of panic slammed into and almost sent him to the ground. Don't think about that, his survival instinct commanded. A door waited for him at the end of the open floor, and he sped through it, mind racing, not knowing if they'd spotted him or not.
It was a bedroom, a bedroom he remembered from his childhood. A large window was to his right, and through it he could see the wall of green light glowing between the tower and the field. Potter and Weasley were standing, arms folded over their chest. Stoically admiring their work. Granger's back still faced him, arched over. Hands on her knees like she was gasping for breath.
He wondered for a moment if she'd realized he wasn't behind her yet.
Draco wanted to stay and watch her- to see how he'd react when she noticed he wasn't there- but the all the voices were coming from the bottom floor now, and he needed to hide. He turned around, flung open the slated closet doors, and sunk to the floor inside them. With wildly shaking hands, he reached out and pulled the doors towards himself. Hidden, for now.
Hermione found the strength to use her legs again, and she stood up, swaying dangerously from side to side. Ron's hand shot out to grab hold of her wrist, to steady her, but she flinched away from his touch.
"Why did you close the door," she breathed, panic swiftly replaced by anger. "That wasn't the plan. He was right behind me."
"No he wasn't." Harry sat down on the grass. "I waited for ten seconds, Hermione. I even glanced inside before I shut the door. He wasn't coming."
"Are you sure? Did you see him at all?"
"No."
She buried her hands in her hair. For one second her mind tried to wrap itself around the possibility of doing nothing. Of following the plan no matter what. They would wait for the rest of the Order to arrive, drop the forcefield spell, and charge. With all the Death Eaters crammed in that small space, the Order would have the advantage. That and the numbers. But the odds of Malfoy still being alive by then...they dropped more and more with each second she considered it. With that knowledge, her brain hit a brick wall, and in that instant she made up her mind. "I can't leave him in there, Harry. I just can't."
"What?"
"He saved my life!"